


Keep Spring from Coming

by pennflinn



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Background Caitlin Snow/Ronnie Raymond - Freeform, F/M, Female Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, POV Iris West, Parallels, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 02:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10981155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennflinn/pseuds/pennflinn
Summary: Caitlin Snow did not expect to become a widow so soon.Neither did Iris West.(Pure speculation for the season 3 finale, and a long-overdue conversation between our leading ladies.)





	Keep Spring from Coming

**Author's Note:**

> General spoilers through 3x22, but keep in mind that this is all pure speculation--I have avoided all of the spoilers for the finale. Mostly I just need my ladies to talk to each other and comfort each other.
> 
> Enjoy!

They’d been in the middle of the vows when it happened.

There were flowers in the air, and petrichor, and perfume.

“I do,” Iris had said.

Barry had grinned giddily. There had been lightning in his eyes. “I d—”

Then the small wedding party, the exterior lawn of STAR Labs, the scent of flowers—they were all gone in an instant. In its place came copper and heat and ozone.

Now, the dried blood on her wedding dress curled, question-like, over the white lace. Iris couldn’t take her eyes off of it, and while she ran a thumb experimentally over the brownish residue, she couldn’t bring herself to scratch it away.

It had happened so fast.

“Iris.” The footsteps approached softly, hesitantly. “I brought some hot tea. Can I sit?”

Iris nodded, still staring at the dark spots on her dress. The only thing she could think of was that it had been the first dress she’d tried on. That it had needed no alterations. That everyone had told her it was meant to be.

Ceramic clinked on cement as the mug was placed hear Iris’ feet. The new figure settled down beside her, close enough to provide some warmth. It was still strange to think of Caitlin as having _warmth_ , what with everything they’d been through the past few weeks, but the sudden proximity made Iris realize how much she was shivering.

“How long have I been out here?” she asked automatically, her voice husky.

“A few hours,” said Caitlin.

How ridiculous she must have looked, Iris thought. Sitting in the parking lot of a run-down laboratory in a blood-stained wedding dress.

“Cisco and Julian headed home. Your dad and HR are both staying here tonight, I think,” Caitlin continued. “You are more than welcome to stay at my place, if you need. When you’re ready.”

Iris nodded again, but the only thing she could think was _I never will be._

She hadn’t been ready when she’d found herself transplanted from her own impromptu wedding to Infantino Street in a blink. Not when Barry had done the impossible and closed that insurmountable gap between himself and Iris. Not when Savitar’s knife punched a hole in his chest. Not when the Black Flash appeared and dragged him and Savitar both, screaming, into the Speed Force.

“It was supposed to be me,” she finally said. “I don’t understand. I was the one who was supposed to die.”

“Barry must have changed something to prevent that from happening; something we didn’t know about,” said Caitlin. “And it wasn’t _supposed_ to be anyone. Nobody deserves this. Least of all you.”

Iris still hadn’t looked at Caitlin’s face, but she could see the woman’s hands clenching, twisting, trembling. It suddenly occurred to her that Barry had been Caitlin’s friend, that the bubble of grief occupied a wide radius. A part of Iris, some part still warm and soft, wanted to offer comfort. But the rest of her was so numb that she could only stay hunched there on the pavement, stone-still, silent.

“I’m sorry,” said Caitlin. “I just came over to drop off the tea. I’ll go.”

She shifted as if to rise, and Iris stiffened. “Wait,” she said. “Please…stay.”

It was selfish, her mind unnecessarily told her. Selfish to keep the doctor out here in the cold, on the hard pavement, when she was grieving and exhausted and likely uninterested in entertaining a speechless widow.

_Widow._

Caitlin settled back down as Iris processed this new word, testing it out in her mind, prodding each syllable of her new identity. Widows were old women with black veils. They sat in the back pews of the church and smiled at young children. They took up baking as an art form and made tea for strangers.

“How did you stay alive?” Iris said as the unexpected, obvious realization dawned on her. “After…I mean, when Ronnie…”

Iris was aware of the lengthening dark, the quiet, between them. Wordlessly, Caitlin reached down and fiddled with the straps on her heels. One came off and clattered to the pavement, and the other soon followed.

“You just do,” she said at last. “You just find a way. First minute by minute. Then hour by hour. Then day by day.” She quieted. “Year by year.” Her perfectly-manicured nails dug divets into the soft leather of the heels. “One thing about fate that I learned is that it never destined us to be together forever. It destined us to be together for a short time. And then it destined me to find out who I am without him. There’s no meaning to it. Just life. And tragedy. And what comes after.”

When Barry had spoken privately to Iris about his mother’s murder, he’d always been honest about how much he questioned destiny. Especially after going back that first time to the scene of the crime, and the second time, he’d been confused about what his role was supposed to be in his mother’s death. It seemed, to him, like every road led back to that knife in her heart.

This, too, had seemed simple, cut-and-dry. Iris had prepared herself for months for her own death. She was aware of every stepping stone they paved on their road to the future, no matter how much they tried to convince themselves they were creating an alternate path.

“Losing Ronnie…it’s part of what fed that cold side of me. That Killer Frost side,” said Caitlin. Iris paused; Caitlin had hardly ever discussed the intricacies of her evil stint as Killer Frost, so hearing the words from her mouth was somewhat of a surprise. “I only hope that you don’t fall victim to the same.”

Again, Iris scratched at the dried blood on her dress, that blood that had smeared on her when she’d reached for Barry one last time. Before he’d been dragged away, before she’d been left alone and speechless in the middle of the park, a princess in her gown waiting for a coach to carry her away.

“What were we expecting, having weddings at the epicenter of a city-wide explosion?” Iris said, which at least elicited a tiny chuckle from Caitlin. “Cait, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Two years ago. After the singularity—”

“Don’t,” said Caitlin. “Don’t do that. You were dealing with your own grief, with Eddie. And I pushed myself away from everyone, anyway.”

“Me too,” Iris said. She closed her eyes and still saw lightning. Softly, she said, “What was the matter with us? We were both right there, the two of us, the whole time, going through the same bullshit destiny. And we never…”

She felt a hand close around her own, pulling it away from the bloodstains. Iris opened her eyes and finally looked over at Caitlin. To her surprise, thick tears were streaming down the doctor’s face, sliding unchecked down her cheeks, her chin, her throat. It was strange, Iris thought, to see the tear-tracks and feel the warmth while she was the one sitting there numb.

As if she too noticed the incongruity of their positions, Caitlin twisted her mouth into something like a smile. “What a pair are we, huh?”

“What a pair,” Iris agreed, hollowly, turning back toward the question-shaped blood on the lace.

Caitlin must have noticed her staring, because she ran a thumb over Iris’ knuckles. “We can wash that out. Cisco perfected a method for getting blood out of…”

 _The Suit_. She didn’t say it, but a tremor wracked Iris all the same. She shook her head.

“I don’t want to wash it out,” she said. “I don’t want to—get rid of—I mean, he just—disappeared—there’s no—what are we going to bury—?”

With one hand, she covered her mouth, and Caitlin squeezed the other one tight.

“I know.” Caitlin’s voice was thick with emotion, her grip on Iris’ hand perhaps for both of their sakes. “Believe me, I _know_. Come here. I’ve got you. I’m here. I’m here.”

Iris obeyed unthinkingly, automatically, sliding sideways to get closer. A streetlight flickered in the parking lot, and for the first time in three years, the memory presented itself: she’d sat in this parking lot before, staring at the empty spaces and the streetlights that had begun to flicker whenever the comatose Barry was around. She’d sat there, afraid of what she couldn’t see, afraid of opening those doors to STAR Labs and confronting whatever lay over that threshold.

At this memory, she leaned her head against Caitlin’s shoulder.

“I’m here,” Caitlin repeated.

With her face buried in Caitlin’s hair, slowly, agonizingly, Iris began to unravel.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please leave a comment below with your thoughts.
> 
> Happy finale!
> 
> Till next time,
> 
> Penn


End file.
